Her other four fingers fan out, trailing along his jaw while she stares intently into his face. There's something more in the way she looks back at him -- an obvious tenderness and affection that had been growing more and more apparent since her coma several months back and the holidays after when he'd given her the vial of his blood.

They still may not understand what they have together. Or, even what to call it. But, to Laura, it supersedes any word associated with the "L" word. The one that gets thrown around all too often. She is slowly understanding it's more. It's profound and not simply one thing.

"Thank you for asking me," Laura says it quietly, leaning in to kiss the edge of his mouth.